2- word count 1540; warnings: none

“Come on, you can do better than that!”

It’s day four of practice. The boys learn quickly and work hard, but I have to push them if the routine is going to look as good as I hope it will. Jin and Suga are both panting as I urge them to repeat the same few moves over and over again. “Your mouths aren’t the only things singing,” I remind them. “Your bodies should sing, too. The song is about love, so fill your muscles with it.”

“Ah, Ri-nim, how do we do that?” Taehyung asks. “We’re all single. And it’s been a long time since any of us dated.” They’re all looking at me with the same exhausted expression. I sigh a little, hating the contracts that force them into a world where they cannot be in a relationship. It’s not because I want them, it’s not because I’m a fan, but the injustice of it bothers me. How can boys and girls this age, from late teens to mid-twenties, be expected to stay away from relationships? Being in love is part of growing; humans are made to be with someone. And besides that, I hate to see my boys unhappy. Still, I know that Big Hit is much kinder to their group than some companies.

“Alright, I understand. Just try to think of someone you want to impress- your siblings, your parents, old friends from school, anybody who you hold close to your heart. Dance as if those are the people watching.” They each nod a little, letting me start the music again. I can see the focus in their eyes- Suga’s pale face is scrunched in concentration, Namjoon is breathing hard, and Jimin moves like his life depends on it. Even with all of their effort, we still have a long way to go. While they have all mastered the physical skills required to dance, they haven’t all learned the theory.

“There’s a strong difference between dancing like this,” I do the moves casually, without any trace of emotion. “-and this.” I repeat the moves, this time forcing effort into my motions and letting my eyes light up. The boys nod in earnest, wanting to do their best. As the practice wraps up, their manager appears to watch. Stepping over to him, I mutter a few quick questions in his ear, to which he nods affirmingly. I’ve set some plans up for the boys, ones which I’m sure they won’t be opposed to.

After the seven have cleaned up and caught their breath, the manager tells them that we’re going to lunch together; it was my idea, I had been wanting to treat the boys to a meal. I like hearing them joke around with one another, but the studio is for practicing and not joking, so I requested to take them to one of the restaurants nearby. The owner of the place closes it out while we’re there, so when we walk in there are only a few servers in the near-empty restaurant. “Ah, I’m starving!” Jin mutters, causing me to chuckle. “You’re always hungry.” I say playfully, and he shrugs as if to agree, his smile making his eyes nearly disappear.

When we’re all seated and the food is laid out on the long table before us, we wait for the manager to start eating before reaching out to take our portions of food. It still amazes me how much boys can eat, though I admit that I’ve eaten more than I probably should due to such a long practice.  The sounds of slurping and chewing fill the room for a few moments until conversation begins.

“What made you like dancing Ri-nim?” Jimin asks me from two seats down- I am sandwiched between Jungkook and Jin, with J-Hope across from me.

“I always loved it, I guess. I was put into classes at a young age, and when I got older I started thinking of my own routines in my head. I couldn’t stop dancing, so I made a career out of it.”

“Where did you learn Korean again?” Namjoon asks.

“I taught myself at first until I could find a tutor. I had quite a few teachers, actually, so I know quite a few languages.” This causes the usual “say something in this language for me!” so I comply by rattling off sentences in Greek, Japanese, and French, which are my best besides Korean. This earns me a round of exclamations, including Yoongi’s comment of: “You look too young to know so much.”

I simply smile at him. “How old you are doesn’t dictate your ability. You guys look a little too young to be famous rappers.” Yoongi’s eyes widen, unsure if he should be offended or not, but then he shrugs a little and takes a final mouthful of food. I finish eating as well, thinking that if I had time, I would talk to those boys about everything in the world.

When we have all eaten and it is time for Bangtan to work on the next part of their schedule, I say a rueful goodbye and head downtown to where my apartment building looms over a narrow street. It’s a nice enough complex, not too expensive, by my rooms all seem pale and bare. There are no photos, everything is clean, and really the only signs of life are my sheets of music and overflowing bookshelves. My piano takes up a large part of the living room, calling me as I sidle through the door.

Sliding onto the black bench, I let my fingers move over the keys in a few quick scales before tapping out a rhythm. Soon the rhythm becomes a melody, something that I’ve been piecing together slowly over the last few days. My voice joins the sharp notes, weaving a story until I feel that I’ve said all I need to say. I reach up and write down the notes and words on a blank staff that I have handy, scribbling it all down before I forget anything. I’ll work on it again another time, when my thoughts are more coherent.

As I go around the house checking on things, I think of the dance routine we’ve been working on. Usually Bangtan’s choreographer videotapes himself and lets the boys learn from that, but with his absence I want to cram in as much instruction as I can. A friend comes to mind, a woman who has helped me in the past. Dialing her number, I smile as her breezy voice answers. “Diya, I need a favor. I’m teaching a new group, but I think they could use your influence. Would you mind?”

“Good morning Bangtan!” I call as they line up at the back of the room. “You’re doing very well, and soon you’ll be back to practicing in your own studio by yourselves. Today I have a friend who is going to help me show you some things.” I gesture to the woman beside me. Diya was a close friend of mine, with a story similar to mine.  She had been born in India, immigrated to America to study dance, and then moved to Seoul for university. She had recently married and settled in a small town not far from the city. “This is Shin Diya- please listen to her carefully, I know you’ll work hard.” Diya bows, and Namjoon leads the group in their introduction.

I take the four oldest members while Diya takes the maknae line. J-Hope has the entire dance memorized so far, and Jin has worked hard to get the moves down. Suga seems tired, which is hardly uncommon. Namjoon’s eyes follow me as I move, his shoulders and hips rolling to match mine perfectly. After a few run-throughs, I can see that the older members have little to learn- after another practice or two, they’ll know the routine well enough to back to Big Hit’s studio and practice alone.

“No, not like that,” Diya says across the room, looking at Jungkook. He rolls his eyes, ever the arrogant maknae. “That’s how we practiced it before!” he insists. Diya sighs patiently. “I am aware of this, but if you want to express what the music is saying then you need to move a certain way.” Jungkook is muttering under his breath, so I take the opportunity to call, “Hey Diya-unni, how long have you been dancing again?” She glances over and after a brief mental count responds: “Twenty-four.” Jungkook gives her less trouble after that.

As practice ends the two groups get back together, running through the routine while Diya and I watch critically. “Very good,” I say. “We’ll wrap it up tomorrow and...well I guess you’re on your own after that.” I thank Diya, the boys all say goodbye, and the nine of us begin to split so the group can go home. Diya takes my wrist as the seven all file out of the room. “I know that look,” she says softly. “You’ve grown quite attached to them, haven’t you?” With a shrug I mutter, “I suppose. But my job isn’t to take care of them. I was just a substitute. I’ll be working with my regular classes again soon.”

A/N: there is so much in store omg